


Making Time

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [82]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, making time for what's important."What's important to Rodney is John.





	Making Time

When John returned to his classroom after briefly being called away to the main office to sign for a much-anticipated (and much-delayed) shipment of new graphing calculators, his students were suspiciously quiet and studious, heads bent over their worksheets, scratching away with their pencils.

John nudged the door closed with his elbow and went to put the box of calculators on the back table to unpack them during his prep period, and then he saw, on his desk, a bouquet of freshly-sharpened pencils arranged artfully in a ceramic mug emblazoned with _Combinatorists do it as many ways as they can._ The mug was atop a stack of puzzle books - sudoku, assorted MENSA puzzles, and cryptography ciphers.

None of those items had been on his desk before he’d gone to the main office.

John carried the box of calculators to his back work table and set it down, then stayed at the back of the classroom, watching his students, waiting for one of them to twitch, to look at the gift on his desk, for some sign of involvement in their sudden appearance.

There was none, and John waited for an awfully long time.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Who put that on my desk?”

Keena lifted her head. “A guy delivered it.”

“Any guy in particular?”

“No. Wearing a uniform. Like from a flower shop, or something.”

John waited for further explanation, but Keena continued working. Finally, John approached his desk. He reached out with his mind, wary of any Ancient tech, but he sensed none. Tucked into the bouquet of pencils was a card. John drew it out, careful not to disturb the careful arrangement of pencils, and opened it. It was one of those tiny cards like the kind that came with bouquets.

The handwriting inside was unfamiliar.

_For your beautiful mind._

The card was unsigned.

John did love puzzles, though. He set the mug aside and opened the first book. Brand new sudoku puzzles. Fiendishly hard. Already his mind was racing as he studied the first one. He reached for a pencil, plucked it out of the bouquet, and began filling out the first grid, heart pounding. There was something both meditative and thrilling about solving a math puzzle, the way things clicked into place. John loved it.

“Mr. Sheppard?” Keena asked.

John lifted his head and realized his students were staring at him. He glanced at the clock. Still a few minutes left of class. “Sorry. Can I help you?”

Keena gazed at him with wide eyes. “Did you just _fill that out_ on the first try?”

John looked down at his puzzle book. “Ah. Maybe.” He tucked the pencil into it for a bookmark and set it aside. “You having trouble with your quadratic equations?”

Keena shook her head. “Are you some kind of Will Hunting?”

It took John a moment to parse that cultural reference. “I’m - no. I’m surprised you know that movie.”

“Will Hunting was in foster care,” Keena said wisely.

John sobered. “Right. I forgot. But - no. I just really like math puzzles. They’re kinda like toys, for me. I didn’t mean to space out on you all. Anyone else have any questions?”

The students shook their heads.

John picked up the card again, studied it. Who knew he liked math puzzles? All of the faculty and staff, because he did them on his lunch break sometimes. Then he glanced at the mug of pencils. Who knew his favorite kind of pencil, though? Evan, of course, because he bought them for at home. And Rodney, obviously, because he always complained that John had pencils when he should be able to do his math in pen like an adult. And, okay, whoever ordered pencils for John’s classroom, because he was a little bit particular about them.

“Are you sure none of you recognized who brought this in?” John asked.

The students shook their heads, and John resigned himself to a mystery.

Or a secret admirer.

Oh no.

What if a student had a crush on him? It had happened to all of them, and usually in pretty innocent ways - students lingering behind to ask questions, leaving apples or other treats on their desks, that sort of thing. All of them had open-door policies - and also never closed their doors completely if a single student stayed behind. Basic safety. Best to have two students stay behind, where possible. That was how Cam had come by Tina and Sasha as a matching set.

And Tyler and Damien.

The bell rang, and the students packed up their gear, dashed out of the room.

The next period was prep. John could unpack, tag, log, and charge all his new calculators.

And do some more puzzles.

*

“I think I have a secret admirer,” John said. He was having dinner over at Casa Atlantica. Rodney was still pulling crazy shifts at the Mountain for his and Zelenka’s big experiment, and Casa Atlantica Too was too big and empty without him.

“Oh yeah?” Cam asked.

Evan had made John’s favorite that night - Salisbury steak, real mashed potatoes, asparagus, and creme brulee for dessert.

“Yeah. Someone left me pencils and a bunch of puzzle books.”

“That’s not very romantic.” Damien made a face.

“It is if you’re John and Rodney,” Tyler said.

“That’s a very thoughtful gift,” Evan said. He passed John the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“It was delivered to my classroom,” John continued. “The kids swear a professional delivery guy brought it.”

JD raised his eyebrows. “And they all stuck to their guns?”

John nodded.

“Someone with money, then,” Cam said.

That ruled out a lot of John’s students. Unless one of them had spent every last dime on him? That was unnecessary and, for a lot of the students, very extravagant. Generous. John eyed Tyler.

“You were most recently a student. Know which of them might have done it?”

Tyler searched his memory. “Not that I know of. I mean, anyone I could think of has graduated. Keena has a crush on Evan.”

Evan raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“She used to draw your name all over her notebooks,” Tyler said.

Cam nudged Evan. “You didn’t notice? You’re losing your touch.”

“I’ve been - distracted, lately,” Evan protested.

Tyler huffed. “Have you been distracted for a whole two years?”

“Maybe,” Evan said. “It’s all JD’s fault anyway.”

JD blinked. “My fault? How? I’ve always been in the shop with Cam.”

Evan gestured at JD with his fork. “Oh please. You were always stopping by my classroom, offering to help move things or lift things or reach things even though for a while there we were the same height.”

“Huh.” Damien’s expression turned thoughtful. “Now that you mention it - yeah. You did hang around Evan’s classroom a lot.” He was still hesitant to call his old teachers by their first names sometimes.

“Lot of good it did me,” JD muttered. “At school you have laser focus. Like a damned monk.”

“Because I’m working!”

JD raised his eyebrows. “And it carried over back at home for at least an hour. I nearly froze to death that spring, taking my shirt off for you.”

Damien looked discomfited. Tyler looked terribly amused.

Evan blushed. “I noticed that.” He avoided JD’s gaze. “But we’re straying off topic. John’s secret admirer. Knows he likes math puzzles.”

“Could be someone on the faculty or staff,” Cam said. “You’re always doing those MENSA quizzes in the back of the teaching journals.”

“Not Kristen the counselor,” Evan said. “She had a crush on you.”

“Me?” Cam echoed.

“Dude,” Damien said. “The _entire school_ knew.”

It was Cam’s turn to blush. He cleared his throat. “Right. Off topic. Someone did something nice for you, John. Enjoy it. If it escalates, then talk it over with Kristen and Connors.”

“There are some really fun puzzles in there,” John said. “Genuine challenges.”

“Someone who knows just how smart you are,” Evan said.

“Like the man said, just enjoy. Don’t overthink it.” Tyler smiled. “Pass the potatoes?”

John and Damien were on dishes duty, so John let Damien pick the music while they worked. The others had assembled in the den for Mario Kart. Because there were six players and only four controllers, whoever came in last had to switch out with whoever hadn’t played in a couple of rounds. They instituted a three-win dynasty as well, so as many of them could play as possible.

For all that John, Evan, JD, and Cam were trained pilots, Damien and Tyler had amazing hand-eye coordination, and they were the superior players by far. After a couple of hours, John headed back over to Casa Atlantica Too to shut down for the night. He’d been trading text messages with Rodney, whose replies were brief and, for the most part, frustrated, because the experiment wasn’t going well, instruments kept breaking, and also other people were stupid. After brushing his teeth and crawling into bed with a book (still working on _War and Peace),_ John called Rodney.

“Hey.”

“John.”

“How goes it at the lab?” It was so good to hear Rodney’s voice.

“It goes. Slowly and painfully. How was school?”

“Good.” John debated the best way to let Rodney know about his potential secret admirer.

Rodney cleared his throat. “Anything interesting happen?”

And like that, John knew. The present had been from Rodney. “No. Kids being kids. The usual.”

“Oh.” Rodney sounded disappointed.

“When are you coming home?”

“Not for a few hours yet. As soon as Radek gets here to spell me, really. You’ll probably be asleep.”

“I miss you,” John said softly.

“I know. Hopefully we’ll have the data we need soon. And then - then I can do all the work-up from home. You’ll have me around as much as you want. More than you want, most likely.”

Rodney still devalued himself at every turn. It wasn’t deliberate or self-effacing. He just - saw himself that way. “I want you forever,” John said.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Rodney began, and then his voice went muffled. _“What - are you kidding me? I told you not to touch it till I was there to supervise! Of course it’s broken. Where did you go to college? I’m calling them to revoke your degree. Out of my way.”_

John felt bad - only a little - for the minion upon whom Rodney was loosing his wrath. “I guess you have to go.”

“Yes. I do. I love you. Good night.” And Rodney hung up.

John settled in with his book, Rodney’s words keeping him warm till he fell asleep.

*

John stirred, briefly, when the mattress dipped beneath someone else’s weight.

He rolled over, reached out blindly.

Rodney pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid up behind him, curled an arm around his waist. “Go back to sleep, John.”

“Love you,” John murmured, and then he went back to sleep.

He’d meant to say thank you, for the pencils and puzzles.

*

Rodney was still asleep when John woke the next morning. John eased out of the bed as stealthily as he could and joined the others on their morning run.

Damien, who was much taller than Tyler, was a superior runner, although no one had any hope in hell of keeping up with Cam in his racing chair. JD and Damien taunted each other and egged each other on, leaving John to keep his own pace and Evan to hang back with Tyler.

John headed back to Too to iron shirts for himself and Rodney, and once he was showered and dressed, he went over to Casa Atlantica for breakfast, which Damien was cooking. He got toast and eggs. Finally none of the eggs were burnt, and Evan offered Damien cautious praise. Damien had found work at a local deli, making sandwiches when he wasn’t studying for his GED, and he was the first one out the door to make it to his classes.

JD and Tyler were the next to depart, leaving John, Evan, and Cam to carpool to school.

Now that John knew Rodney had some kind of romantic shenanigans planned, he did his best to stay extra vigilant, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching his classroom, keeping an ear out for anyone trying to sneak up on him during prep, but nothing was out of the ordinary. He watched his students, too, wary for any of them being in on Rodney’s plans, but their behavior was perfectly ordinary.

So when lunch arrived, John went to join the others in the teacher’s lounge, and he realized - he didn’t have a lunch. There hadn’t been any leftovers from dinner - leftovers were always portioned into tupperware containers for lunches the next day during after-dinner clean-up. He was pretty sure he’d seen Cam and JD fixing lunches that morning. Had he forgotten to grab one?

John fished his phone out of his pocket to text Evan and Cam and ask if they’d remembered to bring a lunch for him - Evan usually did - and then someone knocked on his door.

“Delivery for John Sheppard?” The girl, college-age, wore a quaint red-and-white striped uniform and was carrying a wicker picnic basket lined with blue-and-white checkered fabric.

“That’s me.”

The girl stepped into the classroom, held out the basket. “Enjoy your lunch.”

John accepted it from her, confused. “Thanks.”

The girl turned to go.

John called after her. “Do you need me to sign anything?”

“It’s all taken care of.” The girl departed.

John stared at the basket for a long moment. Then he sat down at his desk, opened the basket. Clotted cream. Scones. Little mini quiches. From that very fancy bakery downtown that even Evan admired. John and Rodney had gone there once, on a date. The food was amazing, but it had been so expensive.

Given the cost of a delivered lunch from that bakery, John was sure that Rodney had arranged this fancy lunch, and he was grateful. There was a card tucked in among the dishes, unsigned, handwriting anonymous.

_Feed your beautiful body._

What was Rodney doing?

Other than being incredibly thoughtful, obviously.

John studied the card for a long moment. He sent Rodney a quick text message, _I love you,_ and then he dug into his meal.

It was even better than he remembered.

After the first bite, John closed his classroom door so he could enjoy it undisturbed. Then he took his time, savoring every morsel.

He sent Rodney another text message, _Thank you._

And he wondered. Was he missing some kind of special anniversary? John wasn’t awful at remembering anniversaries, and if it seemed like he was forgetting one, Evan usually made sure to remind him well in advance of an important date so he could make appropriate arrangements. John was pretty sure he and Rodney didn’t have any important anniversaries pending.

So he resolved to appreciate how thoughtful Rodney was being, as busy and stressed-out as he was at the lab. Maybe Evan would have some nice ideas about what to do in return.

Thanks to a seriously amazing lunch, John was in a much better mood for his afternoon classes, and when his students tried to distract him from teaching by asking him about his days as a chopper pilot, he let them, told them the funny and heroic stories to make them smile and laugh. He was less than pleased to have to cover afternoon detention, but Kelea’s kids were very sick, so he told her to get on home and take care of them, and he supervised the newest round of habitual truants while he got some grading done.

Evan, bless his soul, had arranged for Tyler to cook supper so John wouldn’t have to after covering detention, so John had a chance to kick back and relax once he got home. Once again, poor Rodney was stuck on base. JD was out with a study group working on some horrendous group assignment, so Cam and Evan made sure to set aside leftovers for him as well as Rodney.

“Any news on your secret admirer?” Evan asked.

“Not a student, thank heavens.” John was curled up on the couch with a book, and Evan was sitting in one of the recliners, sketchpad on his knees, drawing John.

“Oh?”

“Not any of the faculty or staff, either.”

“A former student?”

“Rodney.”

Evan looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. He sent me a fancy lunch today - a basket from that one French bakery.”

“Petite Bianca’s?”

“That’s the one.”

Evan’s brow furrowed. “It’s not your anniversary or either of your birthdays.”

So Evan wasn’t in on Rodney’s plan. It wasn’t like anyone at Casa Atlantica was incapable of making ornate plans without Evan’s help - they were all functioning adults, for the most part. But plans always went better with Evan’s help.

“I know.”

Evan frowned down at his sketchbook absently for a moment. “Well, that was very sweet of him. Maybe he misses you.”

John’s initial reaction was _that’s absurd,_ but he and Rodney hadn’t really seen each other in - over a week now. Sure, they were still sharing a bed, and sometimes they had enough energy at the same time for a little bit of lovemaking, but Rodney was at the lab all night and John was at school all day and they really hadn’t seen much of each other.

“I miss him too.”

“That is one of the perk of two boyfriends,” Evan said. “I always have someone to cuddle with.”

“I could never share Rodney,” John said.

Evan huffed. “More like he could never share you.”

John suspected Rodney would - or at least he’d try, if John really wanted it. But - no. That wasn’t for John, and it wasn’t for Rodney either. Granted, Evan, JD, and Cam hadn’t really ever thought it was for them before they’d gotten together. “Maybe. We’re happy as we are.”

Evan met John’s gaze. “It’ll all work out in the end. Rodney won’t be trapped under the mountain forever.”

What Evan was saying made sense, but John also knew how things could be under the mountain, how reality could change at the drop of a hat, from safety to disaster in a single dialing of the gate.

John checked his phone. Rodney hadn’t responded to any of his text messages.

“I should do something nice, for Rodney,” he said finally.

“I know people under the mountain,” Evan said.

John did too. “Yeah, but I don’t want to interrupt his work. Something for when his experiment is done?”

“Do you know when it’ll be done?”

“Not a clue.”

“I suspect not even he knows.” Evan tapped his pencil against his lips, gaze distant and thoughtful. “You could go for something simple - have his favorite ice cream in the freezer, round up some candles, tell the rest of us to clear out, run him a nice bath, have both houses to yourself. So you can make all the noise you want.” And he winked.

John felt himself blushing faintly. “That’s - not a bad idea, actually.”

“Although,” Evan said, “you know Rodney’s favorite is cake.”

Rodney made the best noises when he was eating a slice of a particularly good cake. “True. Will you teach me how to really bake a cake?”

Evan smiled. “Of course.”

It was settled. Cake and a private celebration once Rodney’s experiment was done. If only John knew when it would be done.

After John crawled into bed at the end of the night, he called Rodney, but it went straight to voicemail. John plugged his phone in, left the ringer on so he’d hear if Rodney did call.

Rodney didn’t.

John didn’t notice when Rodney came home, if he came home. He was alone in the bed when he woke up the next morning.

*

John knew he wasn’t at the top of his game at school, yawning all through his morning classes, spacing out when students called on him for help. He knew he must have been putting in a particularly poor performance when JD showed up between classes with a mug of coffee.

“Evan asked me to drop this off.”

“Thanks.” John sipped it gratefully.

JD flipped him a casual salute and ducked out with the stream of departing students.

Despite the extra cup of coffee, John nearly nodded off over his lunch in the teacher’s lounge, which earned him yet a second extra cup of coffee from Evan himself.

John was grading quizzes during last period while his students got started on their homework problems.  He heard his door swing open, and he lifted his head. If it was Cam with a cup of coffee, John was officially declaring today an adulthood failure.

Only it wasn’t Cam or JD or Evan or anyone else with coffee.

It was Oppie.

John stared. “What the -? Oppie, did you _walk_ here?” JD always swore Oppie was too damned smart for a cat - he suspected it had something to do with the Ancient glowy bauble on Oppie’s collar - but this was just bizarre.

Sure, Oppie had more or less taken on Brenda’s dog Roo as his handmaid, and he could let Roo into either house, but this was new.

Many of the older students recognized Oppie, cooed to him and called out to him.

Oppie only deigned to let Keena pet him before he hopped up onto John’s desk, reared up and put his paws on John’s chest, nosed at John’s chin. John petted him automatically, checking him for injuries or distress, but no, Oppie was attention-seeking like he did when he was bored. Tucked into his collar was a folded piece of paper.

John’s heart crawled into his throat. Was it a ransom note? Some kind of threat? He tugged it free, unfolded it, pulse racing.

It was a mathematical formula.

Oppie, mission accomplished, sprawled across the half-graded quizzes and proceeded to wash himself.

John turned to the whiteboard. He copied the formula into the top right corner and stood back to study it.

“Is that one of our homework problems?” Keena asked, sounding a little aghast.

“No. Just - keep working. I need to solve this.”

John set to work, mind racing.

“How is that even math?” Ben asked. “It’s hardly any numbers.”

“It’s letters,” Lillian chimed in. “And not even English numbers.”

John glanced over his shoulder. “You know how math works - the Greek symbols are constants. Some of them I have to solve for, some of them stand for pre-established numerical values. Like _pi.”_

“What’s it for?” Keena asked.

“I’m not sure. But I’m about to find out.” John attacked the white board. Whoever had designed this problem knew how smart he was, knew what level of mathematics he’d studied - and knew how his mind worked. None of his usual shortcuts would work. He had to approach this very, very carefully.

It had been a long time since John had had a good challenge.

He relished in it.

Solving something this complex would feel almost as good as flying.

John barely noticed when the bell rang, nodded absently when his students bade him farewell.

It was Lillian who broke his concentration. “Do you need a calculator?”

John spun around, startled, breathing hard like he’d run a race. “What? No.”

Lillian was holding out one of the new graphing calculators, gazing up at him, wide-eyed behind her owlish glasses.

“But thank you.”

Lillian peered up at the whiteboard. “You can do all that in your head?”

“I - yes. It’s what I went to school for.”

“I thought you went to school to teach. And be a pilot.”

“And do math.”

Lillian smiled at him. “That’s pretty cool, Mr. Sheppard.” She set the calculator on his desk, patted him on the arm, and shuffled out of the classroom.

“Thanks,” John said faintly, and turned back to the whiteboard.

Twenty minutes later, he’d solved the equation.

It took him a moment to parse the string of numbers and constants, but then he realized. If he broke them up, they resolved themselves into - a time.

1730 hours.

And a set of MGRS coordinates.

John fired up his computer, typed them in.

The coordinates were for here in town. At the park near the house, even. John used Google Maps to zoom in on the spot, and -

He knew exactly which spot was intended by those coordinates.

“Hey, John, everything five-by-five?” Cam was sitting in the doorway, his bookbag on his lap.

John capped the marker, snapped a photo of the whiteboard for proof of completion, and went to clean up his desk. “Everything is just fine.”

“We’re ready to leave any time you are,” Cam said.

John scooped the ungraded quizzes into his bookbag - Oppie had vanished without John even noticing - and straightened his desk. Then he switched off his light. “Ready.”

He piled into the car with Cam, Evan, and JD.

“I’m going out for dinner tonight,” John said.

“Oh. With Rodney?” JD asked.

John was supremely confident not just in how he’d solved the equation but how he’d solved the rest of the puzzle behind it. “Yes.”

“Enjoy.” Evan glanced over his shoulder at John, smiled.

John headed straight into his house, stripped off, showered. He scrubbed every inch of himself, shaved again for good measure, because five o’clock shadow was real for him in a way it wasn’t for Rodney, Cam, and JD.

Oppie was lounging on the bed when John emerged from the bathroom.

“You really did walk all the way to the school, didn’t you? Or did someone drop you off?” John sat down beside Oppie, petted him for a bit. Oppie sprawled across the coverlet, boneless with pleasure, soaking up the attention.

John watched the way the bauble on his collar blinked with each pet, and he wondered just how much it affected Oppie - and how much Oppie just took after Rodney.

After a few minutes, he heaved himself to his feet, padded over to the closet, and perused its contents. Eventually he picked out a pair of soft, worn jeans that he knew made his legs look long, and he put on the button-down shirt that made his eyes look particularly green, and he did his best to tame his hair.

He still had about an hour before he had to head over to the park, so to distract himself and calm his nerves he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his gun. Then he had to wash his hands thoroughly, and he played a few songs on his guitar.

Finally he could wait no more, so he decided to walk to the park. That would give him time to burn some energy, calm down. He was buzzing with giddy anticipation, like he had the first time he’d gone to meet Rodney at the part to give Oppie back. John grabbed his favorite black leather jacket, his keys, and headed out the front door.

It was almost five thirty when he arrived at the park.

He made a beeline for Casa Atlantica’s favorite tree. It was where Evan liked to draw, because no matter the time of day, it had good light. The tree’s shady spot was just off the grass, so Cam could get there easily on his wheelchair. JD said he’d grown up with a tree just like it in his backyard.

They’d decided to talk to Tyler about adopting him under that tree.

Tyler had met Brenda and Roo under that tree.

John had met Rodney under that tree.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he reached the tree, but it wasn’t what he saw. Rodney was already there, sitting on a big quilt with Evan’s favorite picnic basket, a bottle of fake bubbly cooling in a bucket of ice, and two little trays set with plates and silverware and champagne flutes.

The exact same set-up John had had for their first date. He remembered how nervous he’d been, Evan and Cam trying to calm him down even as they helped him pack up the picnic basket and supplies. He remembered JD mentioning to Evan that he’d heard Rodney had a citrus allergy, so he ought to avoid any lemon or orange dishes.

John paused at the edge of the blanket, stared. “I thought you had to be at the lab?”

Rodney patted the space beside him, so John sat.

“The lab is important,” Rodney said, “but not as important as you. I make plenty of time for the lab. Today I’m making time for you.”

“I’ve missed you,” John admitted softly. He reached out, picked up one of the champagne flutes. “This looks - wonderful.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Rodney leaned in, kissed him, and for a moment John lost himself in the sensation, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really kissed Rodney, more than a brief press of lips that was _hello_ and _I’m here_ and _go back to sleep._

Rodney pulled back, and he curled his hand around John’s wrist. “We’ve talked about a lot of things this past year, like fostering kids of our own, maybe even adopting. And we’ve done a lot of bit things, like buying our own house together.”

John nodded.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do this year.” Rodney caught John’s gaze, held it.

John nodded again, never looking away.

Rodney placed something cool and metallic on John’s palm. “John Sheppard, will you marry me?”

John looked down and saw a gold ring in the center of his hand. His throat closed. He couldn’t speak. He nodded.

“John?” Rodney sounded a little afraid.

John looked up at him, nodded again. “Yes, Rodney McKay. I’ll marry you.” And he drew Rodney into a crushing embrace, and then he let Rodney kiss him breathless.

John was just wondering whether to suggest that they pack up the picnic, head home, and eat later, have dessert first, when he heard a rustling in the bushes.

“Fer crying out loud, proposals make you cry? Gimme the damn camera. Cam, hold him. Jeannie will kill me if I don’t get pictures of this.”

And John couldn’t help it - burst out laughing.

Rodney sighed, pressed his forehead against John’s. “Now you know how I felt on our first date.”

“Little bit.”

“It’s a good thing I know they mean well.”

Cam said, “Sorry! We’re going now. Although - although if you two wanted to head on home to celebrate, we can pack this up and bring it to you. Later.”

John slid the ring onto his left ring finger - of course it fit perfectly - and stood up, pulled Rodney with him. “Sounds perfect. C’mon, Rodney.” He started toward the house.

Rodney tugged him the other way. “I brought my car. Much faster.”

Back at the car, Rodney fumbled for his keys with shaking hands.

John kissed him again, deep and slow. “I love you.”

Rodney kissed him back. “I love you, too. Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Bru, who deserved some fluffy.


End file.
